Surviving behind the line (Male reader x Countryhumans)

Chance Encounter

The arrival of dawn was swift, its warm rays piercing through the thin veil of sleep that enveloped Y/N. With a reluctant twist of his body, he sought solace from the intrusive sunlight, only to be greeted by the discomfort of his meager surroundings. The bed, far from inviting, offered little respite—its thin blanket, creaking frame, and precarious balance threatened to disrupt any semblance of rest.

An exasperated sigh escaped Y/N's lips as he reluctantly abandoned the inadequate comfort of the bed. Blinking against the sudden onslaught of light, he muttered to himself, his voice heavy with the remnants of sleep, "It really is something else when you wake up without an officer screaming in your ear."

Each step, laden with drowsiness, carried him across the room, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. With a stretch of his arms and a bend of his back, Y/N sought to dispel the stiffness that lingered in his bones, welcoming the satisfying pops and cracks that followed. "I really need a coffee right now," he continued, his tired mind yearning for the familiar embrace of caffeine.

Aware of his current predicament, Y/N conceded to the reality that a cup of coffee was beyond his immediate reach. His thoughts turned to the possibility of purchasing one, yet the absence of funds weighed heavily on his mind—a stark reminder that no luxury was given . Despite the setback, determination flickered in Y/N's gaze as he prepared to face the day ahead, driven by a small part of his resilience that had carried him through countless trials in his training before.

Y/N's gaze drifted towards the broken window, but the blinding rays of the early morning sun forced him to avert his eyes. The unexpected brightness stirred a sense of curiosity within him—just how early was it that the sun still lingered so low on the horizon? Without a clock to guide him, Y/N could only surmise that it was morning, a conclusion reinforced by the absence of darkness that typically shrouded the world at night.

"I need to get more stuff than I thought," Y/N muttered, his fingers rubbing at tired eyes, "I can't even tell what time it is." Frustration simmered beneath his words as he grappled with the limitations of his current situation. The absence of basic amenities, such as a clock or running water, served as a stark reminder of the challenges he faced.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N acknowledged the need to adapt his plans. The prospect of indulging in his usual morning hygiene rituals seemed increasingly distant, replaced instead by the pressing need for a new course of action. "Looks like I need to do something else before I start some chaos around here. Hopefully, this will not draw too much attention," he muttered, his pacing steps echoing in the empty room.

It didn't take long for Y/N's resourceful mind to conjure a plan. A wry smile played at the corners of his lips as he considered the skills at his disposal. What kind of elite saboteur would he be if he couldn't even execute a simple act of pickpocketing? Clad in his coat, scarf, and gloves—a guise that exuded an air of affluence—he reasoned that he would be less likely to arouse suspicion when liberating a wallet or two..

With his plan solidified, Y/N strode purposefully towards the hanger where his coat, scarf, and gloves awaited. A flicker of hope danced in his mind, tempered by the uncertainty of the early hour. Would the world outside be bustling with activity, or would the streets lie dormant in the quiet embrace of dawn?

As he adorned himself in his attire, Y/N took extra care to conceal his weapons—a knife nestled discreetly at his side, and his C96 concealed within the folds of his coat, accompanied by a few spare clips. The Gewehr 98, a formidable presence in its own right, remained behind, reserved for larger-scale operations.